


Father

by alasondria



Category: Phantasy Star Online 2
Genre: F/M, Luthaly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 14:38:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15798588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alasondria/pseuds/alasondria
Summary: Luther introduces Alasondria to the King of Cuent.





	Father

**Author's Note:**

> King and Queen of Cuent were unnamed in canon so I did some work.  
> King = Esmond Leo Ray Cuent, Queen = Arlene Reia Reyna Cuent

The thought instilled in him an uncharacteristic amount of trepidation. Luther had never been one to fret; prided himself on being collected on every front. Naught, he believed, could shake the steel-iron foundation he had built up. However, his usually cool nerves were frayed.

 

What troubled him was not the suspicion that Alasondria might present herself poorly to his father, for she ever always maintained an excellent image, especially in front of royalty. He was likewise neither concerned that he may be ridiculed for having taken her as his aide and confidant, for she had plainly proven that she was a stalwart companion and her loyalty to him was beyond unshakable.

 

No, these did not cause the palpitations that thrummed ceaselessly in his chest. His cause for worry was in his father's reception of her as a woman first. Should he find her less than desirable it would not be too far off for him to send her back to Verun with a wave of his hand. Given the strenuous ties between the nations, the good-natured disposition of the king of Cuent would naturally be preceded by the danger it might pose to host a Verunian citizen.

 

Thus did Luther lament the meeting. However he faced Alasondria with all the confidence of the headstrong prince he was taught to be. If it should come to it, he thought, he would be willing to fend her right to stay in Cuent. He had enough up his sleeve to manage an argument or two.

 

She stood beside him and threaded her fingers together. In her regalia, bearing proudly the blue and white that marked her loyal to Cuent, she seemed like any other resident of the castle. 

 

Verunian blood pumped through her veins but in her heart Luther knew she had come to consider Cuent her home.

 

A wasteland built on senseless war and an empire using its people as test subjects--a similar labour of his past he could never forget--was not a country one could aptly call their home any longer. All too familiar was Verun's crimes and it was why he would fight so vehemently for Alasondria's citizenship.

 

To cast her out, back to the nation that entrenched itself in practices Luther so deeply twisted himself around before, would be grossly hypocritical of his father.

 

A servant of the king came to retrieve the prince and his aide, bowing briskly before announcing that their presence was requested in the throne room. Luther spared a glance towards Alasondria who returned his gaze with a faint smile. His heart drummed in his ears though he did his fair best to remain collected. He responded with a tip of his head and gestured to the hallway ahead of them.

 

The desire to reach out and grab her hand was far too pressing but Luther restrained the urge, choosing instead to clasp his arms behind his back and stride forward with all the regal air that was expected of him. Alasondria walked cautiously behind, her eyes fixated forward as a pair of guards at the door to the throne room saluted with a raucous rattling of amour.

 

Luther paused, hesitating to give the order to open the door. Alasondria stepped in line with him, casting her gaze to peer at his profile, and chanced to see the flicker of anxiety that struck him. Though he tried his best to mask the stress surging through him, it was plainly writ on his face by the crease of his brow and the subtle frown pulling at his lips.

 

She boldly brought a hand up and touched his forearm, her smile from before returning. Luther's head whipped down to stare at her, eyes widening ever so, but then her hand was gone--though the spark it lit remained, skirting over him and setting a fire deep in his bones. He had mind enough to assume she knew what she was doing and he'd be a fool if he denied that it had worked. She always knew how to calm him down, how to chase the dark away, leaving embers behind to rekindle his flame.

 

Luther inhaled deeply.  _ Everything will work out. _

 

"Open the doors." He commanded.

 

"Yes, your majesty!"

 

Together, the pair of guards turned on their heels in unison and pushed the grand doors of the throne room forward, the weight and force propelling them fully open. Luther spared one more glance to his aide and found her face had hardened, her gentle expression giving way to an impossible-to-read visage that belied the tension she doubtless felt pulling taut at her frame.

 

The steward within loudly proclaimed their arrival.

 

"Presenting His Majesty, Luther Lars Ray Cuent and his honoured guest Miss Alasondria of Verun."

 

_ Honoured guest, _ Luther thought bitterly. Of course she had not yet been recognized as his right hand yet, it had been scarcely a year since he brought her to the capital and he'd kept her presence largely a secret until word miraculously got out to his dear father who immediately requested her appearance before the court.

 

His gait remained steady as he neared the imposing figure of his father seated on his throne. Grandiose was the room and even more so was the seat on which the king ruled from.

 

Harriet stood at his side, a slight furrow in her brow and a nervous frown pulling at her lips. Luther tipped his head to her and gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. Harriet folded her arms behind her and smiled back; seeing her brother's disposition soften had temporarily set her at ease.

 

Alasondria did not falter in her steps, gliding down to a kneel upon reaching the end of the hall, she kept her head down and held her tongue. Luther's focus was now fixed firmly on his father.

 

The king lofted his brow.

 

"If it pleases his majesty," Luther began. "I would begin by putting forward the evidence that Alasondria is a woman whom we can trust wholly and that her Verunian heritage is no cause for concern."

 

Harriet spared a glance towards her father, his mouth an impassive line. His usually relaxed expression hardened when his eyes fell upon the woman kneeling beside his son.

 

"Pray continue," he said, his gaze not lifting from Alasondria. Suddenly, his face broke into an amused smile and his eyes softened. "But before you do, I would ask that your guest not posture for the duration of her appearance."

 

Luther stared, bewildered. "Father?"

 

"I know about the unfortunate incident that Harriet suffered only a few months prior," the king began, glancing briefly between his daughter and Alasondria. "About how she did not hesitate to save your sister. That she rescued my daughter has given me heart and I would not suffer her to stand on unequal grounds here."

 

The king stood from his throne and stepped forward, his hand lifting to gesture.

 

"Rise, my lady. For an ally of Cuent's needn't remain bowed. Rise, and tell me of your endeavors. Of your struggles. I should very much like to hear about them in your own words."

 

Alasondria remained for a moment, too shaken by the king's earnest praise to react immediately. She wrestled with her nerves and at last rose from her kneel, her eyes landing finally upon the king. His visage was slightly aged but it still held a wizened youthfulness; the same striking youthfulness that was reflected in his son. She offered a faint smile but it quickly dropped when she spoke.

 

"Your majesty, I am humbled by your words. Gracious that I am to be treated so well so swiftly, I would not hold myself up on the same level as you. I... am merely a common woman from Verun given a sudden yet fortunate second chance in your nation."

 

"My lady, if I might relay your feats already," the king motioned broadly with one hand, gesturing towards Alasondria then to his son, who stood rigid beside her. "You have given us invaluable intel on our hostile neighbours. You have motivated my son to pursue further means to fix the dilemma he created erstwhile, and you have saved my daughter from a certain death. Those are the marks of a noteworthy ally of Cuent."

 

Having broken himself from his confounded stupor, Luther approached Alasondria, his hand bracing her lower back as he fell into her space. "This woman is that and more, father. Her aptitude for magic has a chance to thrive here. I've taken her as my aide and she has begun studying everything she needs to know."

 

"You've never been one to take any interest in others, Luther," the king leveled his son with a curious look, a slender brow quirking as he peered down at him and received a genuine smile in response.

 

"Outside our family, there is hardly anyone to take interest in, but Alasondria has shown me that was an error on my part."

 

"Mm," the king hummed, turned on his heel, and made for his throne, settling back in as he continued musing over Luther's proclamation.

 

"My son, I do not doubt your capabilities to inspire this woman's prowess. Nor do I doubt your wealth of knowledge; you are the head of all things magic for a reason, but I do... worry."

 

Alasondria looked to Luther, her mouth forming a grim frown as she caught wind of the king's hidden implication. Harriet clasped her hands in front of her, doubtless desiring to blurt a word of encouragement to her brother before he lost his nerve.

 

Luther, however, set his jaw and spoke in a resolute tone.

 

"I know my experiments with Ephemera have caused strife in Cuent abound. There has not been a day gone by where I do not remember the accident and feel my blood run cold at the memories. I betrayed your trust. I hurt my sister. These mistakes are ever present in my mind and it is Alasondria who continues to guide me ever further away from repeating them."

 

"You're a good man, brother!" Harriet called suddenly. The king started in his throne, his attention torn from his son's sharpened glare.

 

"Harriet?"

 

"Father, please let Lady Alasondria stay with Luther!" Harriet placed a hand to her heart, her eyes full of conviction as she stared into her father's. "I know you're worried, but brother has done everything in his power to right his wrongs. Without him, without Miss Alasondria, I wouldn't be standing here."

 

The king blinked twice at his daughter, her eyes now welling as the silence continued. He let out a short laugh, shaking his head as he did. “I’m sorry if I made you believe I would be unceremoniously throwing our guest out so soon, dear. My line of inquiry was certainly inappropriate. No, I would never turn her out and neither would I be disinclined to allow her to be your aide, my son.”

 

Alasondria felt Luther’s hand on her back fall briefly to her hip to give it a light squeeze. She looked up to the prince, her eyes widening as she saw his gaze pointedly fixated on her now; a look so  _ proud _ gracing his features. Speechless and overwhelmed, Alasondria could only clasp her hands tightly in front of her, letting out a soft exhale as she tried desperately to stave off the tears.

 

The king propped his elbow up on the armrest of his throne and curled his fingers loosely under his chin as he beheld his son and his aide. Harriet quietly padded over to where her father sat. He peered up at her with a cheeky grin. Harriet hid a quiet laugh behind her hand.

 

“They are quite a pair,” the king mumbled, quiet enough for only his daughter to hear.

 

“Father,” Harriet offered, incredulous, though there was an amused lilt in her voice.

 

“Come now, Harriet. He looks just like I did with Arlene,” the king gestured subtley to Luther. Harriet watched as his brother leaned in closer to Alasondria and murmured things only for her ears, a warm smile pulling at his features as he regarded her.  _ He looks happy, _ Harriet thought.

 

“Mother would’ve loved her, I think,” Harriet said.

 

The king passed his attention back to his daughter, a wistful look on his face. She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He reached up to pat it once.

 

“I think so too.”


End file.
